“There is a nest of thrushes in the glen;
When we come back we’ll see the glad young things,”
He said. We came not by that way again;
And time and thrushes fare on eager wings!
“Yon rose!” she smiled. “But no; when we return,
I’ll pluck it then.” ‘Twas on a summer day.
The ashes of the rose in autumn’s urn
Lie hidden well. We came not back that way.
“Thou traveler to the unknown ocean’s brink,
Through life’s fair fields, say not, “Another day
This joy I’ll prove”; for never, as I think,
Never shall we come this selfsame way.
Jesus defended Mary when the disciples criticized her anointing of him. They said the ointment should have been sold and the money given to the poor, instead of being used for a mere personal service. But Jesus said to them, “Ye have the poor always with you and whensoever ye will, ye can do them good, but me ye have not always.” Whatever they did for him, they must do then. In a little while he would not be with them any more. There would never be a day when they could not minister to the poor, but he would not sit again at Mary’s table. If she had not brought her alabaster cruse that evening and broken it, she never would have done it.
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